


Christmas Comes But Once a Year

by LiesLoveAndLullabies



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Alternate Universe, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Workplace, this is so cheesy I feel like I should be ashamed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-07 14:52:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5460431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiesLoveAndLullabies/pseuds/LiesLoveAndLullabies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s the most wonderful time of the year, if Andy Williams is to be believed, and the atmosphere is warm and bright. Personally, Connor thinks that has more to do with the amount of alcohol everyone seems to have consumed than any particular holiday spirit in the room. </p><p>Connor attends his law firm's annual Christmas party and is captivated by a man with the world's cutest smile.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas Comes But Once a Year

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this back in October and had to restrain from posting it sooner because I didn't want to seem overeager about Christmas - the fact that I've now posted three different fics about the holidays, however, has probably betrayed this fact already. So, because canon tends to be so spectacularly angsty, enjoy yet another incredibly cheesy work from a very big Christmas nerd. 
> 
> Title has been stolen from the title of Mad Men episode and its creator Matthew Weiner, who borrowed it from Stan Freberg's 1958 comedy single who, in turn, also borrowed it from a 1936 animated short.

It’s the most wonderful time of the year, if Andy Williams is to be believed, and the atmosphere is warm and bright. Personally, Connor thinks that has more to do with the amount of alcohol everyone seems to have consumed than any particular holiday spirit in the room.

It’s the annual staff Christmas party – Connor’s third – and he’s trying not to stare at the world’s cutest smile.

 _Try_ being the operative word.

The truth is, Connor’s had a crush on that smile – and the man it belongs to – for almost a year now, ever since he was lucky enough to be on its receiving end.

He’d been on his way out of the office, waiting for the elevator doors to close, when a harried, frantic man with his arms full of boxes had rushed towards him. When Connor had pressed the button to keep the doors open for the other man, he’d been rewarded with an arresting, brilliant smile. In a law firm where everyone was perpetually stressed and guzzled down coffee like it was keeping them alive, it was rare to get anything more than a grateful nod. Connor fell asleep to thoughts of that smile for weeks afterward.

Since that first encounter Connor had bumped into elevator guy a dozen times – in the halls, the parking lot, the lunch room – and each time had been given a small, shy smile. Connor had longed to start up a conversation – to at least assign a name to the very attractive face – but the man never stuck around for long. It seemed like he was always in motion, always just out of Connor’s reach.

Now though, he stands just across the room, engaged in conversation with one of the paralegals. For the first time since Connor had noticed him, he looks relaxed and unhurried, as if he has all the time in the world. Connor envies him – with the way their current cases are faring, it’s likely his own vacation is going to be cut short. It won’t be the first holiday he’s had to cancel plans for.

The paralegal laughs loudly at something elevator guy said – too loudly, Connor reasons, no one is _that_ funny – before peeling off towards the snack table. When she makes no move to return to their previous conversation, and elevator guy remains alone, Connor realizes now is his chance.

He passes their makeshift bar on his way over – seeking out a little liquid courage – before finally, _finally_ reaching his target.

He’s dressed in a gray suit, ordinary and professional, but his candy cane-striped tie belies a festive spirit underneath. He looks up when Connor approaches, a friendly warmth in his gaze.

“You know,” Connor drawls, “I kind of feel like we keep running into each other.”

It’s not particularly smooth – it’s hard to be with all the build-up surrounding this moment – but it draws out a tentative smile from elevator guy anyway. “It does feel that way, doesn’t it?”

Connor thrusts a hand out in front of him. “I’m Connor.”

The other man’s lip quirks up on one side. “Oliver.”

The handshake is warm and firm, lingering perhaps a moment longer than strictly necessary. With introductions out of the way however, Connor isn’t really sure how to proceed.

“Are you a lawyer?” Thankfully Oliver seems to be capable of polite conversation.

“I am. What about you, what department are you in?”

“Uh, IT,” Oliver admits with a blush, “not nearly as cool, I know.”

Connor’s about to assure him that he finds IT very cool – he doesn’t, but he thinks it might be worth the tiny lie if it makes Oliver smile again – when they’re met with a shrill shriek. Connor peers around the room for the source of the ear-splitting noise, only to be met with the dopey grin of the same drunken paralegal, pointing just above where he’s standing.

“You’re standing under the mistletoe!”

Connor looks up and, lo and behold, there’s a small sprig dangling just above his head. The only one in the entire room. It could almost be described as fate, if Connor believed in that kind of thing.

Which he doesn’t.

Even so, it’s hard to chalk this all up as some very big coincidence.

He chances a glance at Oliver, who seems just as surprised as he is. Other than the faint blush to his cheeks, it’s impossible to read his expression. It takes Connor a moment to realize the rest of the room has gone silent and a cursory scan confirms his suspicion – the whole office, their drunken co-workers, are all staring at them expectantly.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” the paralegal prompts.

What indeed.

Connor steps forward, raising his eyebrows at Oliver, subtly asking his permission. The other man trembles, almost imperceptibly, when Connor removes his glasses. Every movement is measured, careful, so as not to spook him. He wants to kiss Oliver, almost desperately so, but he also wants to give Oliver a chance to back out if he needs to. Connor tucks the thick-rimmed glasses into his own front pocket and brings a hand up to cup Oliver’s face. He strokes a thumb across his cheek as he leans in, achingly slow.

Oliver’s eyes flutter closed and Connor closes the gap.

The kiss is gentle, tender, and surprisingly chaste – not at all the way Connor pictures it late at night when he’s alone – but Oliver doesn’t pull away. In fact, his lips part under Connor’s, applying a little pressure once the momentary shock seems to wear off. Connor lets his hand slide down Oliver’s neck, cradling the back of Oliver’s head when their tongues finally touch. The feeling of Oliver’s mouth against his makes something pleasant swoop low in his stomach. He’s not even embarrassed by the surprised moan he lets out when Oliver accidentally catches his lower lip with his teeth. That is, until someone in the room wolf whistles and Connor’s brought back to reality.

He pulls away from Oliver with a gasp and he can see his own lust-filled gaze reflected in Oliver’s dilated pupils. With their public display of affection over, no one seems to be paying them any notice. Just as well, Connor thinks, he doesn’t need anyone giving him flack for what he plans to say next.

“I have a confession to make,” Connor murmurs, straightening Oliver’s tie, “I’ve wanted to do that since the first moment I saw you.”

He looks up to gauge Oliver’s reaction and finds the other man blushing. “The first time you saw me I was running toward a closing elevator like a massive dork.”

“Massive dorks just so happen to be my type,” Connor smirks, “especially ones with cute smiles.”

The smile he receives after that is so bright it could almost rival the sun. Oliver’s eyes light up, crinkling around the edges, his cheeks dimpled and teeth bared and it almost takes Connor’s breath away. Oliver is radiant when he smiles, beautiful beyond a shadow of a doubt, and Connor vows in that moment to spend the rest of his life making Oliver smile like that. And if the sentiment is too cheesy and optimistic, well, Connor just chalks it up to the holiday spirit.

It is Christmastime, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is greatly appreciated!


End file.
